Drusy and Topaz inspect today’s shipment of art supplies, by which I mean yarn from a nice person in Casper, Wyoming for the cat blanket project. If you open the door, someone else’s generosity can barge in and blow your mind.
We’re expecting more – I can’t even say it.
When the snow is especially deep, we bundle up like cartoon characters and undertake the traditional Arctic Excursion to the Grocery Store, though we can plainly see others have gone ahead to the Pole.
On this snowy afternoon, Pirate Wednesday temporarily eschewed swashbuckling for snoring in a cozy cave next to Pete’s parents’ coffee table books.
Because I am – like – six, I will put a tea bag in water just to watch color swim into light.
Last night, I dreamed I was about to be back on stage, but I had neglected to bring work with me or even to write and rehearse any. I was not anxious because no one knew who I was. I do so love being the dark horse, even in dreams.
In the early 1990s, I got stuck in an hours-long traffic jam on this far-flung old farm road during a snowstorm. Why was I there? No idea. The cold, the frustration, the fear my rickety car would fail and strand me where help would not come – those things I remember. They are the reason why I listen to nobody about when I should or should not venture out into snowstorms.
South Middlebush Road during the snowstorm on Tuesday, 21 January, 2014. Photo: Bob Hosh
If the weather man tells you a storm is coming and your boss or the school superintendent insists you turn up, take a sick & tired day. No one will be more concerned for your safety than you.
How are you fixed for chicken soup, projects and rock salt?
Copper yarn: proof that dreams really do come true if you’re me and your dream is to knit something out of yarn that is coppery and you happened to elbow your way through a scrum of grandmothers to the display when coppery yarn was on sale. Because I am awesome.
“I’m not in right now. Please leave a message after the tree.”
Yesterday was the anniversary of my hip surgery, so how can this winter be five years long?
In the space of about 14 hours, we got about a foot of snow. This morning, our driveway was mysteriously plowed. We regard everyone with pleasant suspicion.
Tulips photographed by Bob Hosh in Colonial Park.
Poor Impulse Control 